


Ten Little Dragons

by InkSplatterM



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - And Then There Were None Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Murder Mystery, Recreational Drug Use, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSplatterM/pseuds/InkSplatterM
Summary: Ten little dragons going out to dine, one choked his little self and then there were nine.On a cheerful spring day, ten invitations were sent out gathering a group of select individuals to Soldier Island. Once there, secrets are uncovered, crimes are revealed, and each guest is killed off one by one.Will the group band together to figure out who is killing them before it is too late?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Ten Little Dragons

Edelgard von Hresvelg took out a letter from her handbag and looked it over again. It was written in a messy handwriting, the words only just legible. 

_ Dear Edelgard,  _

_ Please forgive the sudden letter, but I really must request your help.  _

_ There is an event happening at the old Garreg Mach Monastery on Soldier Island, and I have been invited. Oh please, please, I cannot go alone. It would please me greatly if you could meet me there and be a guard against too many people.  _

_ I’ll be eternally grateful, _

_ Yours, _

The signature was too messy to be adequately read but for a “B” at the beginning and the “V” near the end. “B” and “V”, who did she know again with those initials? 

Edelgard delicately folded the letter, the paper yellow against the crisp white of her gloves. Bernadetta, that was it. Bernadetta von Varley. A terribly nervous young woman. She found it almost impossible to even leave her room most days. Of course Bernadetta would send a letter asking for a favor if she wanted to go somewhere but still didn’t feel comfortable. 

Question answered, Edelgard turned to focus on the scenery running backwards outside the window of the train car. Garreg Mach Monastery was, perhaps, a strange place for an event, isolated as it was. But it was also a strange place to have an elite school. Once upon a time, Edelgard had been a student there before it was shut down. The memories of then were sweet, in a certain point of view, and surprisingly fun. But after what happened, well, even the most rose tinted memory had a grey cast to it. 

She settled in further to her seat. There was still much time before the train would arrive at her destination. Best get comfortable. 

* * *

Returning to Garreg Mach Monastery was not something that Byleth expected. 

When she had left, the whole place was in disgrace and the property had traded hands several times since. Now it was in the hands of Lady Una Owen. 

To think as well that Byleth was returning to be a lady’s secretary for the summer months. Just a job to tide her over, really. The boarding school she currently worked at was third rate, to be honest, but it was the best she could get after, after —

No. Best not to think about it. She was lucky that she was able to get any jobs. No one liked to see the Inquest on her resume, and Saint Cethlean’s was the only one willing enough, or desperate enough, to look past it to have her in their games mistress post. 

Byleth stretched as best she could in her seat. Third class ticket was all she could afford, but at least the car was relatively empty. There was just the man in the opposite corner. 

It was easier than it should have been to hide her shock when he turned the page. She knew him. Good goddess he had grown quite a bit from his days at Garreg Mach. But he couldn’t be returning there. No, of course not. That would be too much of a coincidence.

* * *

The newspaper held little but the general continuation of how the world was in despair. The sins of late night clubs and too much liquor still all the rage. How dull. 

The war was now memories of grandparents, and most of the current generation had little to worry about. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd was not most of the current generation. 

Petty disputes and op-eds were a decent enough distraction. Better to read and scoff than think about the presence that should have been at his side, commenting dryly with him about children these days. 

It was a loss long revenged, but it still would rear its head. Dedue would have called the job he was going to a foolish endeavor, but money was money, and Dimitri dearly needed to find a purpose again. He brought no weapons with him but a revolver that was tucked into his valise. He wouldn’t need much else, and Vestra had said that it would be a good idea. The others that this “U. N. Owen” fellow were bringing together were a lively bunch, and as security he’d need the extra back-up. 

Exhausting the last article of his newspaper, he closed it and folded it into thirds before tossing it on to the empty seat that was across from him. But now he had little to look at but the woman that sat across the car from him. Her firm calves grew nicely from a pair of heeled shoes and disappeared under a demure skirt that covered her knees. 

She noticed him looking though, turning away. Dimitri took his gaze further up her body. Professor Eisner? Well, it wasn’t like they were teacher and student anymore. Where could she be going?

* * *

His name was Gilbert Pronislav. He has recently returned from abroad, and was invited to join a house party. But where had he returned from? Or should he say that he had lived outside of the country?

In his open valise were travel books; Duscur, Almyra, Dagda, Brigid, places even further. Any he could conceivably say that he had spent time in, but none he could say he was from. From all that he knew, his particular shade of orange-ginger hair didn’t occur naturally in such parts. So. Just returned from an extended visit to… Brigid. And he was spending his first few days going to a delightful houseparty, per invitation of a mysterious benefactor. 

Perhaps he should have come up with a reason why said benefactor invited him, or a better cover story to the, frankly, bizzare, circumstances he found himself in. His police career was behind him, and best stayed there. For this particular case, he was invited to a house party and he was to investigate the lot of the people there: the Honorable Miss Edelgard von Hresvelg, Major Jeralt Eisner and Miss Byleth Eisner, Ms. Rhea Seiros, Lord Dimitri Blaiddyd (He was still alive! Astonishing.), Dr. Manuela Casagrande, Mr. Claude von Reagan, Mr. Seteth Cichol, and Miss Flayn Cethlean Cichol. A diverse group to be sure, but… there was something there to connect all of them. Gilbert couldn’t put his finger on what it could be. 

* * *

There was a child running around and getting their filthy little hands and feet everywhere. Rhea Seiros glared icily over the edge of her book. Children, in her view, should be seen and not heard.

Finally, after far too long, the father of the little monster collected it and took it away, cooing something in a gentle voice. Rhea sniffed. Some people were too easy on their children as well. A good swat on the rump was what was needed. Then perhaps the child would know not to run around and bother their elders. 

A thought that could carry her through this disaster of a train ride was that there would be absolutely no children at her destination. There used to be, of course, but that was years ago. 

Perhaps it should be better said, a lifetime ago. 

Nevermind that for now. Miss Una N. Owen — strange name, very strange — now had bought the old location of the school and evidently converted part of it into a home. Just as well. Much of the old monastery had always been just on the edge of ruin. It would be quite nice to see what had been done with the place. 

In any case, the only piece that had been bothering her was … where in the world had she met Mrs. Owen before. It wasn’t as if her social circle was quite large. Only the best of society was graced with her presence. At the same time, they must have met somewhere. What else could have merited such a charming and personal invitation?

No matter. Rhea turned back to her book in the blissful silence.

* * *

Watching the father interact with his child brought a smile to Jeralt’s face. He could remember those little joys of being a father, the mischief that a child could get up to. His own daughter was grown, of course, and living her own life. Last he heard she was a games mistress at a little boarding school. Perhaps not the most glamorous of places, but an occupation was an occupation, and so long as she was happy there, he would be happy for her. 

Concentrating on the child was much easier than concentrating on the father. 

The father looked so much like a former friend that it absolutely gutted Jeralt just to look at him. 

The mustache. It was the mustache.

Jeralt sighed and looked out the window at the passing scenery. He was going to the country, the fresh air should do him some good. The invitation was a surprise, but it was about time that he had done something outside of his usual schedule. And the Owen fellow had promised that some other of the old guard would be in attendance as well, to talk about the old war. So long as he could avoid some of his old wounds, then it should be a relaxing little vacation.

* * *

“Asshole!” 

Manuela shook her fist at the car that just about run her off the road,and got nothing in return but twin rooster tails of dust. For a moment, she thought that karma would be on her side and the car would hit a tree, but no such luck. With a grunt, she leveraged herself out of the driver’s seat to check that all was still ship shape. She hadn’t hit anything, thank goodness, and her lights were still intact. In the passenger seat, her kit was also intact. The little glass bottles of medicine each tightly closed and nestled in their slots. 

Young people these days. Not a care in the world and pulling others into their wake as if they were all as invincible as they felt. And now she had to get her car started again. So much lost time. Hopefully she wouldn’t miss the boat. 

Being a doctor at loose ends was no way to be. So when the invitation to come to Soldier Island was slipped into her townhouse’s mail flap, she had taken it up without a second thought. Anything would be better than sitting there with her empty liquor cabinet calling to be filled and emptied and filled again. 

Her car rumbled to life, purring under her hand as she wrenched the gear shift into place. It was to be a party, but if she sufficiently impressed the host, perhaps she could turn it into a job offer. Personal physician. Yes that sounded quite nice. 

* * *

He was living the dream. 

Fast car, bright sun, wind in his hair. It was too bad that there were drivers on the road who had no idea how to truly enjoy the vehicles that they had. Claude sped past one, taking the turn with acceleration, and only just dodging a tree with his back wheels. 

The road should be ruled by those who could own it.

Women, men, didn’t matter, so long as you could be one with your car, the road before you, and the wind. 

He would love to try a motorcycle in the future, be able to really feel like you were riding the wind. Maybe one of the chaps at this little shindig he was going to had one. They could ride around Soldier Island and see who would stay on and who would fall over the cliffs and into the ocean. Would be harder when they were all drunk, of course, but that was the fun of it. 

They’d laugh about who fell on their face the next morning.


End file.
